Time Bomb and Zahndry Others Part 5

Carey let his eyes sweep the others' faces as he thought. They were all on Nordli's side, he saw: Du Bellay, like himself, only because there was no other choice. How many lives were they planning to snuff out?*innocent lives, perhaps, who may not realize what they were doing? "The trouble, Mr.

Executor, is that the Peacekeeper forces really aren't set up for this kind of threat."

"You've got nuclear missiles, don't you? And ships to deliver them?"

"There are two problems. First, hitting the Intruder would be extremely difficult. A shot from the side would probably miss, alerting them as to our intentions. A head-on shot would hit, all right, but the extremely high magnetic fields it would have to penetrate would almost certainly incapacitate any missile we've got. And second, there's no guarantee even a direct hit would do any good. Just because they don't have FTL drives doesn't mean they're primitives*only that their technology developed along different lines. And don't forget, that ship is designed to bore through the edge of a star at nearly lightspeed."

"There's one further problem," Dr. Roth spoke up. "Disabling or even disintegrating it at this point wouldn't help us any. The fragments would still hit the sun, with the same consequences."There was a moment of silence. "Then we have to stop or deflect it." Evelyn suggested. "We have to put something ma.s.sive in its path."

Nordli looked at Carey. "General?"

Carey was doing a quick calculation in his head. "Yes, either would work. Slowing it even slightly would sent it through a less dense region of the photosphere. a.s.suming, of course, that he stays with his present course."

"What can we put in his path?" Nordli asked. "Could we tow an asteroid out there?"

Carey shook his head. "Impossible. As I pointed out, he's far off the ecliptic plane. Moving an asteroid there would take months." Even as he spoke he was mentally checking off possibilities. Tachships were far too small to be useful, and the only heavy Peacekeeper ships in the System were too far away from the Intruder's path. "The only chance I can see," he said slowly, "is if there's a big private or commercial ship close enough to intercept him a good distance from the sun. But we don't have authority to requisition nonmilitary s.p.a.cecraft."

"You do now," Nordli said grimly. "The government also guarantees compensation."

"Thank you, sir." Carey touched an intercom b.u.t.ton and gave Captain Mahendra the search order.

There was a lot of traffic in mankind's home system, but the Peacekeepers' duties included monitoring such activity, and it was only a few minutes before Mahendra was back on the intercom. "There's only one really good choice," he reported. "A big pa.s.senger liner, the Origami, almost a hundred thousand tons. She's between t.i.tan and Ceres at present and has a eighty-four percent probability of making an intercept point on time; seventy-nine if she drops her pa.s.sengers first. One other liner and three freighters of comparable size have probabilities of fifteen percent or lower."

"I see," Carey said through suddenly dry lips. "Thank you, Captain. Stand by."

He looked back up at Nordli. The Executor nodded. "No choice. Have that liner drop its pa.s.sengers and get moving."

"Yes, sir." Turning to the intercom, Carey began to give the orders. He was vaguely surprised at the self-control in his voice.

"Well, Shipmaster?" La.s.sarr asked.

Orofan kept his expression neutral. "I have no suggestion other than the one I offered an aarn ago, Voyagemaster: that we change course and continue at reduced speed."

"For six lifetimes?" La.s.sarr snorted. "That's unacceptable."

"It won't be that bad." Orofan consulted his calculations. "We could penetrate the outer atmosphere of the star without causing significant damage to the system. We'd collect enough fuel that way to shorten the trip to barely two lifetimes."

"That's still not good enough. I have no wish to join the ancestors before our people are safely to their new home."

"That can be arranged," Orofan said stiffly. "You and any of the Dawnsent's crew who wished could beput in the spare sleep tanks. If necessary, I could run the ship alone."

For a moment Orofan thought La.s.sarr was going to take offense at his suggestion. But the Voyagemaster's expression changed and he merely shrugged. "Your offer is honorable, but impractical.

The critical factor is still the durability of the sleep tanks, and that hasn't changed. However, I've come up with an alternative of my own." He paused. "We could make our new colony in this system."

"Impossible," Orofan said. "We don't have the fuel to stop."

"Certainly we do. A large proportion of this s.p.a.cecraft's equipment could be done without for a short time. Converting all of that to fusion material and reaction ma.s.s would give us all that we need, even considering that we would overshoot and have to come back."

"No!" The exclamation burst involuntarily from Orofan. His beloved Dawnsent broken up haphazardly and fed to a fusion drive?

"Why not?"

His emotional response, Orofan knew, wouldn't impress the other, and he fumbled for logical reasons.

"We don't know if there's a planet here we could live on, for one thing. Even if there is, the natives may already be living there. We are hardly in a position to bargain for territory."

"We are not entirely helpless, however," La.s.sarr said. "Our starshield's a formidable defense, and our meteor-destroyer could be adapted to offense. Our magnetic scoop itself is deadly to most known forms of life." His tentacles took on a sardonic expression. "And if they're too advanced to be subjugated, we'll simply ask for their help in rebuilding and refueling our ship and continue on our way."

Orofan could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"Are you serious? You'd start a war for the sake of only a million Sk'cee*a million, out of our eight hundred billions?"

Suddenly, La.s.sarr looked very tired. "I'll say this one more time, Shipmaster. The voyage, and those million Sk'cee, are my prime responsibility. I don't have the luxury of taking a broader view. By both nature and training I am highly protective toward my charges*if I were otherwise I wouldn't have been made Voyagemaster. Racial selfishness is sometimes necessary for survival, a fact those who sent us knew well. This is one of those times. I will do what I must, and will face the ancestors without shame."

There was nothing Orofan could say*the struggle to follow the honorable path was vital to him as well. But what did honor demand here?

La.s.sarr gazed at the blackness outside the viewport. "You have one-half aarn to choose between our current course and ending the voyage here," he said. "If you won't choose, I'll do so for you."

Heart pounding painfully, Orofan signed a.s.sent. "Very well."

One of the nicest traditions still remaining from the days of the old seagoing luxury ships, Chandra Carey thought, was that of the officers eating dinner with their pa.s.sengers. She delighted in choosing who would join her at the captain's table, always making certain someone interesting sat at her side. She was therefore annoyed when First Officer Goode interrupted a lively discussion on genetics with a call suggesting she join him on the bridge."Mechanical trouble?" she asked softly into the intercom. No sense alarming the pa.s.sengers.

"No, Captain. But you'll want to get up here right away." Goode's voice was casual*far too casual.

Chandra's annoyance evaporated. "On my way."

She made her apologies and reached the bridge in ninety seconds. Goode was waiting, a message flimsy in his hand. "Get a grip on your guyline," he advised, handing her the paper.

A frown creased Chandra's forehead; it deepened as she read. "This is ridiculous. Drop my pa.s.sengers and fireball it way the h.e.l.l off the ecliptic? What for?"

"The explanation's still coming in*tight beam, with the line's own security code," Goode told her.

"And it's under your father's name, no less." He took the flimsy back and headed toward the navigator.

"Dad?" Chandra stepped to the communications console and peered at the paper sliding slowly from the slot. Sure enough: PEACEKEEPER HEADQUARTERS, EARTH*TO P.L. ORIGAMI: FROM GEN. SANFORD CAREY. Beneath the heading the message was nearly complete, and Chandra read it with a mixture of fascination and horror.

"Well?" Goode asked.

She tore off the paper and thrust it into his hands even as she groped for the main intercom board. For a moment she paused, organizing the thoughts that whirled like Martian winds through her mind. Then she stabbed the "general" b.u.t.ton.

"Attention, attention," she said in her most authorative voice. "This is Captain Carey. All pa.s.sengers and non-essential crewmembers are to report to the lifeboats immediately. There is no immediate danger to the Origami, but this is not a drill. Repeating: all pa.s.sengers and nonessential crew report immediately to lifeboats. This is not a drill."

The "abandon ship" alarm sounded even as she keyed a different circuit. "Bridge to Power. I want the drive up to full ergs in twenty minutes. Start tying in for full remote to the bridge, too." She waited for an acknowledgment and switched off. "Navigator!" she called across the bridge. "Get me a course to the vector on that paper*" she stabbed a finger at the flimsy Goode had shown her. "I want a minimum-time path to the earliest possible intercept point that leaves us stationary. Any acceleration she can handle, and you can run the tanks. Everyone else: if you're not on flight prep, help get the pa.s.sengers off. We fireball in twenty minutes. Move!" The bridge erupted with activity. Chandra sank into her chair, rereading the message carefully. It was hard to believe that the long search was ending like this, with a kill-or-die confrontation that made less sense even than shooting a deadly snake. And yet, despite the danger and irony, she felt a small surge of excitement. The safety of the entire solar system had unexpectedly fallen into her hands*and her father himself was counting on her. She wouldn't let him down.

Glancing up at the chrono, she keyed the intercom. "Captain to lifeboat bays*status report?"

La.s.sarr returned to the bridge at precisely the appointed time. "The half-aarn is past, Shipmaster," he announced.

Orofan looked up from the sensor monitor he and Pliij were seated at. "One moment, Voyagemaster," hesaid distractedly. "A new factor has entered the situation."

"I have it now, Orofan," Pliij muttered, both long and short tentacles dancing over the instruments.

"Medium-frequency electromagnetic radiation, with severe shifting and aberration. I have a recording."

"Good. Get to work on it at once. And keep the sensors watching for more." Orofan stood and went to where La.s.sarr waited.

"What is it?" the Voyagemaster asked.

"Signals of some sort, beamed at us every few aarmis. The natives are trying to communicate."

La.s.sarr frowned. "Interesting. Any known language?"

"Unfortunately, no. But there's a great deal of information in each pulse. We may have a preliminary translation in a few aarns."

"Good. That'll help us if we need to negotiate for the Dawnsent's repair."

Orofan blinked. "What do you mean? Whether or not we're stopping here is still my decision."

"Not any more. I've reconsidered and have decided this is our best course. Further planetary data is coming in, and it now seems likely that there are one or two planets here we could colonize."

Orofan forced calmness into his voice. "You can't do that, La.s.sarr. You can't commit us to an uncertain war; certainly not one of conquest. Even if they were primitives*which they're clearly not*we would have no right to take their worlds. This is not honorable*"

"Peace, Shipmaster." La.s.sarr favored him with a hard, speculative glare. "You protest far too much. Tell me, if the Dawnsent didn't need to be cannibalized for the required fuel ma.s.s, would you be nearly as opposed to stopping here?"

"Your insinuations are slanderous," Orofan said stiffly. "The ship is my responsibility, yes, but I've not been blinded to all else. My overall duty is still to the Sk'cee in our sleep tanks."

"I'm sure you believe that," La.s.sarr said, more gently. "But I can't afford to. The very nature of your training makes your judgment suspect in a case like this. The decision has been made. I've instructed the library to catalog nonessential equipment; disa.s.sembly will begin in two aarns."

"You can't do this," Orofan whispered.

"I can," the Voyagemaster said calmly, "and I have."

Trembling with emotion, Orofan turned and fled from the bridge.

"That's the last of them," Goode reported from his position at the Origami's helm. He sounded tired.

Chandra nodded, several neck muscles twinging with the action. Two days of two-gee deceleration wasn't enough to incapacitate anyone, but it was more than enough to be a nuisance, and she was glad it was almost over. "That was what, the engineering crew?"

"Right*four lifeboats full. We're all alone, Captain."She smiled tightly. "Fun, isn't it? Okay. Chaser Twelve just checked in; the Intruder's still on course. Our ETA on his path is four hours?"

"Just under. Three fifty-seven thirty."

She did a quick calculation. "Gives us a whole six minutes to spare. Tight."

Goode shrugged. "I would've been perfectly happy to take the whole trip at two gees and get here a day earlier. But creating fuel isn't one of my talents."

"I'll suggest a tachship tanker fleet to Dad when we get home," Chandra said dryly. "Okay. Number 81 should be our last boat. Fifteen minutes before we arrive I want you to go down and prep it. We'll want to cut out the minute the Origami's in position."

"Roger."

Conversation lapsed. It felt strange, Chandra thought, to be deliberately running towards a collision: strange and frightening. It brought her back to her first driving lessons, to her father's warnings that she was never, never to race a monorail to a crossing. He'd hammered the point home by showing her pictures of cars that had lost such contests, and even now she shuddered at the memory of those horrible tangles.

And it was her father himself who had authorized this. She wondered how he was feeling right now.

Worse than she was, probably.

Strange how, in the pictures, the monorail never seemed particularly damaged. Would it be that way this time too? She had no desire to kill any of the aliens aboard that ship if it could be avoided. This mess wasn't really their fault.

Six minutes.... She hoped like h.e.l.l the Intruder hadn't changed course.

Captain Mahendra's hands rested lightly on the Situation Room's communications board, showing no sign whatsoever of tension. General Carey watched those hands in fascination, wondering at the man's self-control. But, then, Mahendra didn't have a daughter out there racing the ultimate monorail to its mathematical crossing.

Mahendra turned from the board, taking off his headphone, and Carey shifted his gaze to the captain's face. "Well?"

"Chaser Six reports both the Intruder and the Origami still on course. Chasers Eight through Thirteen are still picking up lifeboats. Almost all the pa.s.sengers are back; about three-quarters of the crew are still out there."

Carey nodded. "How long will the Origami have before impact?"

"From now, three hours twenty minutes. Once in place, about six minutes."

Carey hissed softly between his teeth. "Pretty slim margin."

Mahendra frowned. "Should be enough, General. Those boats can handle two gees for ten minutes or so before running their tanks. Even if you allow them three minutes for launching, they can get*oh, three hundred kilometers out before impact. That should be a relatively safe distance.""I suppose so."

"You seem doubtful," a new voice cut in from behind him. Carey turned to discover Du Bailey had come up, unnoticed, and was standing at his shoulder.

"I'm concerned about those still aboard that ship," the general growled. "They're civilians and shouldn't have to go through this."

"I agree." Du Bellay paused. "I, uh, looked up the Origami's registry data. The captain is listed as a Chandra Carey."

He stopped without asking the obvious question. Carey answered it anyway. "She's my daughter."

"Your daughter, sir?" Mahendra asked, eyes widening momentarily. "I'm sorry; I didn't know." His fingers danced over keys; numbers appeared on his screen. "Sir, we could pull a tachship off of the Intruder's path and have it waiting to pick up Captain Carey when the Origami reaches position."

"No. We've only got three tachships left on chaser duty and I'd rather leave them there. Chandra's good, and I know she thinks highly of her crew. The best thing we can do for them is to keep feeding them good data on the Intruder's course."

"What about sending one of the tachships that's on lifeboat-pickup duty?" Du Bellay suggested.

"Those boats don't carry all that much food and air," Carey said, shaking his head. "The Origami dropped a lot of boats, and some of them are getting close to the wire. Tachships can't carry more than a single lifeboat at a time, and with all civilian craft officially barred from the area we're going to have enough trouble picking up everyone as it is." Both men still looked disturbed, so Carey flashed what he hoped was a rea.s.suring smile. "Don't worry, Chandra can take care of herself. Captain, what's the status of our attempts at communication?"

Du Bellay drifted off as, almost reluctantly, Mahendra turned back to his board. His hands, Carey noted, didn't look nearly as relaxed as before.

The door opened, and Orofan paused on the threshold for a moment before stepping onto the bridge.

La.s.sarr glanced up from the console where he and Pliij were working. "Yes, what is it?" the Voyagemaster growled.

"I'm asking you once more to reconsider," Orofan said. His voice was firm, devoid of all emotion.